I poured mana into Ayuru like I was trying to drown her in it.
I did it in a way that it was not a steady stream. I dumped it in recklessly and aggressively—so much that if she were anything less than what she was, she would've split apart from the pressure alone. It felt like filling a glass far past the brim and expecting it not to spill.
And yet—
She didn't crack.
She didn't swell or distort. She didn't even tremble.
If anything, it felt like she was drinking it down. She was drinking very drop, every pulse and every surge of energy I forced into her. The blade absorbed it all greedily, like it had been starving for centuries and I'd just handed it a feast. It should've been too much.
It wasn't.
I paused for half a second, steadying myself. Then, I took a slow, deep breath. The kind that fills your lungs all the way down and burns a little.
